Unlikely
by always-orange-and-blue
Summary: Francis Bonnefoy has always hooked up with any student he wanted, only to have his fun with them and then leave them the moment he got bored. But one day, he accepts a bet which forces him to try sleeping with Alfred Jones, the school's biggest dork. The bet itself is already hard, but all the surprises that will come up will only make things worse. Highschool AU, FrUS.
1. The Bet is On!

Francis looked out to the horizon from his spot on one of the school's many rooftops. The time was about ten minutes before classes started at United World Academy, and the sun had only just begun its journey across the sky. Francis relished in the feeling of the cool September morning breeze on his face before gently tilting his nose into the single rose he carried, taking in a good whiff of its scent. At this, he grinned; this would be another finale to a great tale of romance.

Only moments later, he could hear the door to the rooftop open. He swiveled around to see a pretty young girl approach, all freckles and big brown eyes and wavy red hair. "Oh, Francis," she began, "you wanted to meet me here?" She had a shy and breathless smile. Francis wondered with wry amusement what she could be anticipating. Despite this thought, he sobered up his expression before answering.

"That is correct, _ma cheri_. But first, I must tell you how lovely you are. Truly, you are the finest that all of humanity has to offer."

"Oh, Francis..."

"Which is why it is quite unfortunate that we must part ways." He paused for dramatic effect here, taking in the girl's shocked and devastated expression. "Please, do not take this the wrong way. It is simply, you see, that the heart is such a fickle creature. We have shared so many beautiful moments together. But _l'amour _is such a fleeting thing. It could not last."

For a few moments, the girl stood completely still, wide-eyed, fully absorbing the news she was given. She must have misunderstood, right? But one look at Francis' expression told her that she definitely understood what was going on. Then she needed a moment more for her to _really _understand, for the information to sink in, before she responded.

"W-wait... so... th-this is it?" She was talking around her held back tears. "You don't love me any more?" Right on cue, the tears started pouring out.

"_Ma cheri..._" Francis wore a somber expression as he placed his free hand on the girl's shoulder. "I brought you this. I can only hope that it will help you." Francis offered his rose.

With one hand rubbing the tears away, she took the flower with her other hand. Then she looked at the ground again, her hand squeezing around the stem, the prickling pain from the thorns going unnoticed. After a few moments of sniffling and sobbing, she finally managed to speak through the lump in her throat, "how could this possibly help me? The only thing I need is you..."

"I am... so sorry. But I did not wish to lie to you. Just as _l'amour _had left my heart, so your love for me will leave yours. I only ask that you look back on our time together... on me... with great fondness in the future." He gave a few gentle, reassuring rubs on her shoulders, though he made no move to get closer. The girl was now using both hands, even though one still held the rose, to try and get some handle on her tears. Her sharp, pathetic sobs were starting to build up, until finally she opened her mouth and loosed a particularly loud combination between a sob and a shriek. By now, her body was obviously shaking.

Francis merely sighed and whispered, "I'm sorry." Then he quietly exited the rooftop, leaving the girl to fall to her knees.

* * *

During lunchtime, Francis sat with his usual crowd of well-dressed high-school students who had much more of their parents' money to spend than sense. Even though Francis' family didn't nearly make as much as those of his peers, he still had plenty of fashion sense, charm, and grace to make up for it.

"Truly, it was such a sad scene," he concluded, shaking his head. Despite his words, a small, amused smile was on his face. The others at the table wore wicked grins on their faces, this was so typical of the Frenchman.

"Francis, you're so bad!" said one girl with curly brown-red hair between giggles.

Francis sighed dramatically, "But I cannot help it, Lyssandra! We both know how greedy the human heart is! It pines for this person or that, has its fun, and then moves on. _L'amour _is so wild and unpredictable!"

As the people at the table calmed down, another girl—dressed in a black leather jacket, with black eyes, and long, luscious black hair—spoke up. "Francis, I'm amazed. You've hooked up with so many people! I really think you could lay anyone at this school."

"But of course, Nadia. I am the master of _l'amour, _after all."

"Oh yeah? You want to bet?" She had a huge smirk on her face.

"Ah. It sounds like you have something interesting in mind, then."

"Yeah, it'll be pretty interesting for me. Interesting to see you try and woo Alfred Jones."

In a moment of shock, Francis sputtered. "Surely, you don't mean...?"

"Surely, I do. Why, there he is right now!" The grin never leaving her face, Nadia pointed to someone sitting about halfway across the cafeteria. He had long, greasy blond hair, tied back in a loose ponytail, round goofy-looking glasses, and a face full of acne. He currently wore a baggy and entirely unflattering hoodie—not unusual for him—had his nose buried in a comic book, and seemed to be trying to get more burger on his face than down his throat.

Francis simply gaped at the other boy before turning back to Nadia. He appeared to be bewildered, and for once, at a loss for words. After a beat, he finally managed to regain his composure enough to continue. "Honestly, every time I see him, I wonder how he even came to this school. Don't they only accept people with enough money? Or enough grace? Or, well... enough basic hygiene?"

At this, Nadia simply rolled her eyes. "I heard he had a scholarship or something. I also heard that he's into guys. Which brings us back to the original topic... you willing to sleep with him or what?"

Francis had a serious look on his face. "Surely you have a reward in mind."

"Of course, Francis. If I'm remembering right, you've always wanted a Ferrari. So, all you need to do is sleep with Jones before we're through with finals this winter. Then she's all yours."

Francis closed his eyes, deep in thought. Nadia was absolutely correct about the Ferrari. Even though his father offered a different, inferior car to him, he had his heart set on the Ferrari and couldn't take anything less. Without his father's approval, though, there was no way he could get his dream car. He glanced at Jones again. All he needed to do was sleep with him, once, and he could get that beautiful car in his hands.

Francis considered the proposition a little longer before finally settling on a decision. He gave a challenging grin to Nadia. "Just make sure to get for me a sky blue one. That is all I ask."


	2. The First Meeting

The next day, Francis decided to introduce himself to Jones. Based on his past experiences, as well as Jones' infamous obliviousness, he decided that the best way to complete the bet would be to display his supposed affections in a straightforward manner. Usually he would still need some degree of subtlety, but in Jones' case, it would be a better idea to lay it on a little thicker.

Francis grinned. There was no way Jones had a relationship with anyone before. He would probably be desperate to be with Francis, and this desperation would help get things over and done with as quickly as possible. With that in mind, Francis approached Jones, who was once again sitting alone, eating like a pig and reading some comic book.

"_Excusez-moi_, but is this seat taken?"

Jones glanced up to Francis with a startled look and then returned to his comic. His reply was muffled by all the food in his mouth, but by his tone and disinterest, Francis decided it was okay to sit. As he did so, he let a small frown slip on his face. Disinterest? This couldn't be the case; Jones and his thick skull must have made some mistake.

Francis plastered a charming smile on his face and held out his hand. "I am Francis, by the way. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?"

Jones peeked up from his book, then appeared surprised when he saw that, yes, this Francis guy was actually talking to him. He swallowed thickly and grabbed the offered hand, going to shake it. "Alfred! But you can just call me Al." He flashed a huge smile at the other, showing off a full set of braces in the process.

"A pleasure to meet you." Then Francis tugged Jones' hand towards himself and placed a just-sensual-enough kiss on the back. He looked back up to Jones with a similarly sensual grin. But—something wasn't right. Jones' hand seemed to freeze and the boy had a flustered look on his face. Francis put in every effort to mold his face into one of worry, though he was inwardly cursing Jones. The one time his strategy would actually backfire!

"What is the matter?"

"Uh... I dunno how to put this, but... well, do all French people say hi like that?"

For a long moment, Francis looked utterly bewildered. Just what kind of question was that? And how the hell was he supposed to answer?

But Jones' face gave away exactly what the answer needed to be if Francis was to have a chance at this. So he quickly put on a charmingly apologetic smile and said, "Ah, yes, that is exactly how people in France greet each other. My apologies, I had just forgotten my American etiquette."

At that, Jones visibly relaxed and laughed good-naturedly. "I thought so! I hope you don't mind that I'll stick to the American way of saying hi, though!" Jones laughed again, and Francis found himself doing everything he could to stop the put-off expression that was fighting to show on his face. Jones doesn't want to return the gesture? What's that supposed to mean? Francis closed his eyes. Perhaps he needed to change tack, lay off the heavy advances. Start with something small. So, he opened his eyes and grinned at Jones.

"In any case, I couldn't help wondering if perhaps you wanted to visit the Big Scoop with me? They offer the most delicious frozen yogurt."

"Frozen yogurt? Do they have ice cream too?"

"But of course-"

"Then I am IN, man!" Jones had his fists clenched and looked as excited as a child going to the amusement park.

"Is it fine to meet up after school?"

"Sure! Oh man, any time's fine for ice cream!"

"Then it is settled. We shall meet up by the administrator's office and go there together."

"Deal! Can't wait, dude!"

"Neither can I. Ah, but for now, I must apologize—I promised to meet a good friend of mine during the lunch hour, you see." Francis successfully asked Jones out, which was all he needed to do for now. There was no way he would hang around the noisy American longer than necessary.

"No probs, man! See you after class!"

Francis flashed Jones one more pleasant grin before leaving the table to go find Nadia and the others.

* * *

After school, Francis could already see Jones waiting at their meeting place as he approached. He set his face in an easy smile and said, "ready to go?"

Jones returned the gesture with a face-splitting grin and replied in the affirmative. With that, the two set off towards the Big Scoop at a leisurely pace.

"So," Francis began, "I had heard from a friend of mine that you are here on a scholarship. Is this true?"

"Yup! It's for science! I'm taking most of my tough science classes now, so that next year, I get to help with a university research project!"

"Sounds exciting."

"Definitely! Then, when I finally get to college, I'm gonna major in aerospace engineering! It's always been my dream to work for NASA!" Jones had a cheerful faraway smile. With such honest enthusiasm, Francis couldn't help a small grin on his face. It was hard for him to believe that someone could already have it all planned out by now. Jones turned to face the other and smiled at him. "So, what are you gonna do?"

"Ah... I haven't decided yet. But we still have a couple of years to go, _non_?"

"Yeah, we do. I bet I'm the weird one, 'cause no one else knows what they're gonna do that far ahead!"

Francis knew a good opportunity to give a compliment when he had one, especially with someone as difficult to compliment as Jones. "It may be uncommon, _mon ami_, but such ambitions are admirable. I do hope you achieve them."

"Thanks, man! I hope you do awesome in whatever you end up liking, too!" Jones had another giant smile on his face, causing Francis to wonder just how the boy managed to be so damn happy all the time. If he were in Jones' position, with his unfortunate looks, fashion sense, and personality, why, he would be miserable!

After a few moments, the two of them slowed down in front of a building. Jones gaped at it for a moment and then said, "wow, so this is it! You know, even though I'm already into my second year at this place, I still haven't visited the Big Scoop before." Without waiting for a reply, Jones marched right in. Francis followed, and then nearly got hit in the face with the door. He frowned at this; didn't everyone know to hold the door open for the next person? How on Earth did Jones miss that lesson?

The American was already by the other end of the shop by the time Francis made it over there and, once again, repaired his facial expression. Francis grabbed a small cup and was about to make his order when he heard a small whimper from Jones. What sort of problem could the other possibly have?

"What is wrong, _mon ami_?"

"I'm trying to figure out how this works..."

Of course. Jones has never been here before. Has he never visited this sort of shop? "It is quite simple. You pay by weight. Of course, if you would like something else, they have a few other things. It is all up there." Francis pointed to a menu and pricing guide hanging nearby.

"Oh, okay!"

Francis left Jones to look at the menu and began to serve some pomegranate yogurt to himself. Just as he filled his cup, he heard Jones groan. Okay, seriously?

"Is there a problem?"

Jones jolted and then shot Francis a somewhat hopeless, and perhaps even slightly embarrassed, look. "U-um, it's just... well, everything's so expensive. I really want something awesome! But, I can't..." Jones trailed off abruptly.

Well, this was an interesting development. The obnoxiously happy Jones could be overcome by something as simple as ice cream. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Francis put his hand on the other's shoulder. To him, this was still some kind of date.

"Not to worry, _mon ami_. Your bill is on me. Help yourself." Just as if a switch had been flipped, Jones' face immediately lit up and his posture came out of its slump.

"Thanks, Francis! I hope someone's told you you're awesome lately, because you. Are. Awesome!" Jones bolted to the cups and began to fill one up.

Just as Francis finished paying, Jones had bounded up to the register. He had his usual big grin, and in his hands... a bigger serving of ice cream. Francis quickly shoved some of his yogurt in his mouth, because there was no way he could force down the grimace that was about to show up. Was Jones simply raised by wolves? Who on this Earth orders so ridiculously expensively when it's on someone else's money!?

Francis was well aware of Jones' excited eyes on him as he paid. _Just think about something else, something happy, _he thought to himself. _Pretend he is a beautiful woman who will have fantastic sex with you right on that table. She has a perfect hourglass figure, soft skin, round breasts that bounce in perfect circles when you thr—_Francis snapped out of his thoughts by the clerk handing him his receipt. Remembering his grace, he slipped on his usual easy smile, thanked the clerk, and then he and Jones sat down at a small table. Alfred, in the meantime, felt a warm sort of happiness at Francis' gesture. Not many people looked so happy to buy someone else's food! Francis really must be a nice guy.

"Thanks again for the ice cream, man! _Bon apetit_!" Jones smirked at his own little joke before digging in. His braces briefly glinted in the light before he began chowing down. Francis noticed this, then glanced down at the other's dessert as he began to daintily eat his yogurt. In Jones' extra large cup, Francis could spot three flavors of ice cream, chocolate, strawberry, and caramel syrup, two different types of sprinkles, gummy bears, crushed cookies, maraschino cherries... he slipped his eyes shut before he could take in any more. It was as though someone vomited everything in the shop straight into Jones' cup! With that said, was it even a good idea for him to eat all of that with braces in?

Francis was relieved from having to force a conversation as Jones ate so voraciously. But, this presented a new problem... Francis found himself losing his patience, as well as his appetite, as he listened to Jones slurping and smacking his ice cream down. "Ah," he suddenly interjected. Even though it was a rather slight noise, Jones still stopped immediately and looked at Francis with wide, questioning eyes. Quickly, Francis found a followup: "I couldn't help but recall just now... we share algebra class with each other, _oui_? Third period, with _Madame_ Lee?"

Jones responded, but his mouth was too full for anything intelligible to come out. Before he could stop himself, Francis leaned away from Jones, too disgusted to put up a facade in time. He did not need to see the chewed up mess in Jones' mouth! The other boy seemed to (miraculously) pick up on Francis' reaction, so he quickly finished chewing, swallowed, and then spoke again. "I totally didn't notice you there! That's great, dude!"

"Ah, yes... it is great. Tell me, how do you..." Francis trailed off as Jones suddenly jolted and checked his phone.

"Aw, man! Sorry dude, but I gotta go. This was awesome, though! See you in class tomorrow, yeah?" At that, Francis could merely nod as he watched Jones inhale the rest of his ice cream. This seemed to be enough, though, as he smiled, waved, and hurried out of the store.

Francis blinked in shock for a moment before bitterly returning to his yogurt. Did he honestly just get ditched? Did Jones, of all people, ditch THE Francis Bonnefoy? Master of all things to do with love and romance? This sort of thing has never happened before!

Once he finished his dessert, Francis sighed and leaned back. He frowned as he thought about how miserable today went and how atrocious Jones' behavior was. He thought that romancing the boy would be difficult, but this-! He could barely even _tolerate _him! He sighed again, cleaned up for both of them, and left the shop. He could already tell, this whole ordeal was going to be far more miserable than he bargained for.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I just want to note here how much I just _died _when I saw the response that this story got. Only one chapter, and I already have five reviews, four favs, and twelve follows! I really didn't expect so many people to like this! Whenever I think of the following I've already gotten, it gives me all the warm fuzzies. So, I want to thank each and every one of you who left a review or signed this up on your fav/alerts list! You are all amazing! And I hope this story continues to satisfy in the future!

Also, while I'm sort of on this subject, I just want to say that I love responding to reviews! I don't like putting up all the responses on the story, but I do try to send replies via PM to everyone I can! And in this case, all the people I can reply to are the ones who logged in when they reviewed. I would love to send out more messages to more of the people who review next time, if that's something you'd like!


	3. How Messy This Is!

Two days later, Francis found himself walking with Jones through the dorms, heading to the other's room. The morning after the Great Scoop Failure, Jones had apologized and invited Francis to his dorm to do... he didn't know what. Spend time in some way, he supposed. In any case, Francis didn't completely forgive the American, but being invited to his dorm was definitely a good thing. Based on the few interactions they had, it was glaringly obvious to Francis that he probably wouldn't be sealing the bet today. But being invited to the boy's dorm was definitely a step in the right direction.

"Anyway," Jones interjected, "I was thinking we could play _Legends of the Lost Gods. _You've never played video games before, right?"

"That is correct." And so far, Francis wasn't feeling any more willing to try them. But, if Jones insisted...

"Yeah, I figured. But don't worry, you don't need to be really skilled to play this one!" Then Jones slowed down and stopped in front of one of the doors. "Here we are!" He swiftly pulled out a key and let the both of them in.

And immediately, Francis wanted back out. What a mess! While Jones headed off somewhere and kept talking about his game, Francis stayed glued to his spot by the door, too shocked and disgusted to pay attention to the other. Clothes were strewn about in every conceivable place, trash littered the floor, books and DVDs and games were stacked in so many odd places, the desk was overflowing with papers, trash, and dirty dishes... and what was the odd smell? Francis couldn't quite place it.

"Uh... dude? You all right?" Francis snapped out of his shock and found that Jones finally noticed something was wrong.

"It is so messy here!"

"Oh... sorry 'bout that. I was gonna clean up before you got here, but you know, I just didn't have time."

"So you normally live like this?"

Francis sounded really pissed. Jones shrunk away and said in a rather meek voice, "Yeah..."

It was then that Francis realized how harsh he was acting. Not that Jones didn't deserve every bit of it, but if Francis wanted a chance to sleep with the other, he would have to ease up. Francis took a deep breath. He still wanted to take a stand on this, though. He _had _to take a stand on this, because he was probably going to end up winning the bet in this room. He couldn't possibly do something so lovely (even if it was with Jones) amid such a wreck!

Francis brought himself back to reality and gauged how Jones was doing. The boy was still looking a bit frightened, and he was clearly waiting for Francis' reaction. Francis molded his face into something a little gentler and responded, "I apologize for lashing out so rudely. But surely you want to live in a clean room, yes?"

"W-well, yeah. But it's so hard to keep up. And it's not like anyone else lives here!"

"You live here. So that is all that is important, _non_?" Alfred ducked his head to hide the blush on his face. Suddenly, he could feel his heartbeat, and it was going quicker than it should. Man, this was embarrassing. He was having doubts about inviting Francis over when the other sighed again, effectively getting his attention. "Instead of playing your game, why don't we get this cleaned up?" Francis wasn't going to back down on the issue, even if Jones was being so uncharacteristically shy about this.

Jones simply looked back up to Francis and nodded. Then he looked around his dorm for a few moments, and suddenly his face just got a bit redder. "Uh, how do you clean, anyway? I've always been a bit messy, you know, and whenever my mom asked me to clean something, I'd just get my brother or one of my sisters to do it for me..."

Francis' eyes widened. "You don't know how?"

"Whoa, I mean, I get the basics! I know it involves a broom and stuff, but I've never had the patience to get it done to the end, you know?"

"I... I see."

"So, then. You must know how to do it, right? I mean, you offered to clean with me!"

"Yes, I did. Let me think." Francis then looked around the room and contemplated how to go about this. "Well. Hm." He crossed his arms. "...I do agree that it will involve a broom."

"So... you don't know either?"

"Ah, well, I've always had a maid to take care of that sort of thing." By now, Francis understood that those ladies his father had over weren't maids or nannies or anything like that... but it was always so troublesome to explain to other people that he just went with the easy way out.

"Ha ha—didn't expect that!" Jones smirked at Francis before heading to his desk. The Frenchman took the opportunity to let a frown slip onto his face. How did Jones turn this around so quickly?

Very carefully, Francis walked around the mess towards the desk. "So, what are you doing?"

"I'm gonna Google how to clean!"

"Honestly, I don't think it works that way."

"Dude, have you been on the Internet lately? You can find anything on Google!" Just as he said this, he typed up his search. Immediately, several guides on cleaning came up. "See?"

Francis crossed his arms, feeling slightly defeated. "So you can."

Jones opened one of the guides and the two of them started to read it. Once they finished, Jones stood and turned to Francis. "Okay, so lucky for us, my mom already left a bunch of cleaning stuff here," he said.

"Wishful thinking on her part?"

"Pretty much! Usually, she does all the cleaning when she comes to pick me up for winter break!"

"Your poor mother. So you're saying that you already have all of the chemicals they listed?"

"Yeah! Probably! …Maybe. I dunno. I never exactly got acquainted with that stuff. But, uh, first, we should..." Jones looked around the bedroom for a moment. "First, we gotta get all this stuff on the floor outta the way. I guess."

Francis glanced at all the things on the floor. So dirty! He didn't want to touch it. "Ah, most of these things seem to be your belongings. It would be best for you to sort through them. I will start on the mirror in the restroom." After responding in the affirmative, Jones broke out his cleaning supplies, and the two got to work.

It was about two hours later when they were finally finishing up. By then, Francis just felt so tired—a little physically and much more so mentally. Seriously, it should be illegal to be so dirty. After learning about the "sniff test", as Jones put it, taking care of the source of the funny smell, fighting with Jones over things that are basic cleanliness habits, and generally dealing with the abundant filth packed in every corner of such a small space, Francis felt ready to crawl into bed right then and never deal with the world again. Or at least, never deal with Jones again. The Frenchman was sitting at the desk when Jones emerged from the bathroom, setting the mop and bucket aside.

"Whew. Finally finished. Fourth time's a charm. I guess," Jones said, plopping down on his bed.

"_Oui. _As long you wait for the floor to dry this time."

"Yeah, man. I already learned my lesson on that one." Jones sighed and continued, "I'm just glad to be done. I don't even know if my mom would be this thorough!"

"Ah, but you still have one more thing, _mon ami. _Just look at your bed."

Jones' face fell before he glanced about the bed, looking bewildered. After a few moments, though, he realized what Francis meant. "No way, dude! You want me to make my bed?"

"That is correct."

"Aw, man! But why? It'll just get messed up again tonight..."

"Well, I wouldn't mind helping you do that."

"Huh?"

"Ah, nevermind that. Just make your bed." Francis mentally slapped himself. He already knew that flirting with Jones was bad. Besides, the pass he made just now was really lame in any circumstance. All of his exhaustion could really mess things up.

Jones, in the meantime, groaned loudly, reluctantly rose, and plodded around his bed as he made it. As he went through the whole process, he clearly made a bigger fuss of things (and more noise) than was entirely necessary for such a task. Once Jones had his head turned away, Francis allowed himself to give in to the urge to roll his eyes. Honestly, what a child.

Once he finished, Jones stood over his bed with his fists in the air. "There! Finally done!" Francis smiled for a moment at how nice the bed looked. And then he flinched out of that smile when Jones flopped onto his bed, messing up the sheets. Quickly, Francis replaced his grin before Jones could see. Even though the sheets looked a little crumpled, the bed was still in a much finer condition than it had probably ever been this whole semester, and for that, Francis felt a little accomplished.

Then he looked around the room, at how beautiful and clean it was, and he shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and just basked in the glory of the cleanliness he brought on. Finally, everything around here was so nice. So wonderful.

After a few moments of this sweet relaxation, he noticed how still and quiet things had gotten. So he opened his eyes and curiously turned to Jones. It seemed like maybe Jones was staring at him? Francis couldn't tell, and he couldn't read Jones' expression as the latter quickly hopped out of bed. Whatever look was on Jones' face quickly morphed into his usual big grin.

"Thanks for all the help, man. Even though it was a huge pain in the ass to do... it looks heroically awesome now."

"Agreed. So promise me that you will keep it like this from now on. Not even a single book or CD out of place!"

"Aw, dude, harsh! Can't we just keep being happy about the job we did now?"

Francis narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. "Just promise."

"Fine, fine! ...I promise." Jones had his arms crossed and was looking away petulantly. As long as he promised, though, Francis was okay with it. Then, as if that moment never happened, Jones lit up and grinned at Francis. "So, we gonna play _Legends of the Lost Gods _now?"

"A-ah, _non_! _Je suis désolé_-" Jones immediately appeared bewildered, and Francis once again inwardly cursed himself. He took a breath to calm himself and continued, "that is, I am sorry. But, ah, I see that I am running late for an appointment! So I must take my leave for now. _Au revoir_! I will see you tomorrow!" The irony of the situation vaguely registered in Francis' mind before he reminded himself of the agony he would be going through if he stayed. He felt as though he fulfilled his Jones Quota for life, much less for one day, and his exhaustion on top of that would only make things worse. Yes, best to retreat for now and try again in the future. Jones waved rather numbly in response and gave a weak "bye" as Francis rushed out.

As the Frenchman briskly walked out of the dorms, Alfred locked the door and let loose a big sigh. Dealing with all that work and all that nagging was more tiring than he thought. Even though he was really looking forward to playing with Francis, Alfred reasoned that maybe getting to relax on his own wasn't such a bad thing. He turned back to look at his room, and when he once again saw how great it looked, he smiled and felt some of his usual happy energy return to him. It was super exhausting, but it would be super unheroic to let the dorm slip after they got it so awesome! And thanks to that dumb promise he made, the consequences would be even worse if he let his room get dirty again.

Yes, he was definitely determined to keep his dorm in its Heroically Clean state, keep it in the state it got to only after he and Francis worked together to make it. The loss he felt from Francis' departure now forgotten, Alfred happily went off to spend his afternoon playing a different game.


	4. Blossom

Finally, the battle was reaching its end. Francis and Alfred each had only one party member left, and both of them were running low on health. As per their hastily constructed plan, Alfred charged his character to the enemy's front and began to attack fiercely. Francis, in the meantime, snuck his character around to the enemy's back and carefully began the button combination for a heavy spell. He just needed to get it done quick enough and make no mistakes, and maybe, just maybe, they'd finally beat this boss.

After a few moments of tense concentration that felt much longer than they actually were, Francis' character unleashed his spell right into the boss' backside, and the boss let out a loud wail and crumpled to the ground. Victory music started up, and then Francis let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. He hated to admit it, but somehow, this game was actually engaging.

After the two watched the following cutscene, they agreed to save and quit for the day. While Jones put away the controllers, Francis lazily looked over the posters in the room. He didn't pay them much mind on his first visit to the dorm, but the walls were almost entirely covered in posters. They seemed to have scientists and comic book superheroes on them (most of which Francis didn't recognize), though there was an oddly colorful one among them. Why did Jones have a picture of little ponies put up, anyway? Well... Francis decided it probably wasn't worth looking into. So he let the thought drop and instead took a deep breath of whatever it was that smelled pleasant in the room. At the very least, Francis could appreciate that the dorm was completely opposite of how it had been only a week ago.

"Yeah, I thought you might like the smell." Jones had turned around just in time to see Francis take another whiff and grinned.

"_Oui_. What is it, anyway? ...Cinnamon?"

"Cinnamon apple! I got one of those plug-in things." Jones nodded towards the air freshener currently plugged in near the door before sitting down on his bed. "Thought it'd be a nice touch."

"Ah, yes, it is rather pleasant." For a moment, Francis thought about the nice aromas he kept up at his home. So he added, "But you know, something that would be even more lovely in your room would be fresh flowers."

"Yeah, they look good, but they're not really air fresheners!" Besides, the only thing Alfred knew about flowers is that the real ones were expensive.

"Then you must have forgotten what they are like. I always keep flowers in every room of the house. They bring such a wonderful and delicate scent!"

"Oh... yeah. I guess." Fresh flowers, in every room, all the time? Sometimes, Alfred wondered if it was even possible for him to be close friends with anyone at this school.

Sensing Jones' sudden drop in mood, Francis responded, "Ah, I have a splendid idea! Why don't we visit the florist?" Of course—Jones must have gotten upset because he wanted some flowers for his room. Francis knew he would feel the same way if he was in the other boy's place.

"I dunno..." Alfred wasn't really into flowers. On the other hand, seeing how eager Francis seemed to be about the idea... "I mean. Yeah, I guess we can go." If Francis wanted to share something he liked so much, then Alfred reasoned that it would only be fair to give it a shot.

"_Splendide_! Then let us be off at once!"

* * *

They had already been at the florist for a little while, but Alfred found that he didn't mind too much. Shortly after they arrived, Francis learned just how little Alfred knew about flowers. Since then, Francis had been showing the American around the shop, giving a little impromptu lesson on the things they found. Even though he spent all this time so far teaching, Alfred noticed that Francis seemed to somehow become more relaxed while they were in the shop.

"Ah. And here we have the ever-popular rose," said Francis, as he led the other over to the display. Alfred had to admit, he was rather impressed at how many different colors they came in. Besides the familiar shades of red and pink, there were roses that were orange, or blue, or purple, and even some that were two-tone. Without thinking about it, Alfred grabbed one of the roses so he could smell it, but he flinched instead. Well, that was dumb. How did he forget that roses are supposed to be thorny?

"Are you okay?" Francis asked. Without waiting for a reply, he grabbed Alfred's hand and started to inspect it.

Right on contact, Alfred felt a hot stab in his chest. Then he started to feel a little too warm, and he knew he needed a diversion. So he said in a voice that definitely wasn't higher than usual, "Um, hey, Francis, what are those purple ones there?" Francis curiously looked to where Alfred pointed, then released his hand and stepped over to the flowers in question. Alfred took in a deep breath and already felt himself start to calm down. Honestly, he hadn't known Francis for very long, but it already seemed like the two of them shared the most awkward moments together out of anyone else he'd ever known. And that was impressive, Alfred thought, considering he was friends with Kiku.

Francis gently lifted up one of the vases and brushed his fingertips against the petals. "An excellent choice. These are called irises." He gave them a delicate whiff and a serene sort of smile, the likes of which Alfred had never before seen on Francis, spread across his face. "They happen to be my personal favorite." And just like that, Francis explained some facts and trivia about irises, and then continued on with his lessons.

With Francis so engaged in the flowers, and Alfred so engaged with Francis, the two of them lost track of time. They only realized how late it had gotten when they saw long shadows and those lazy orange rays of sunlight that only shine by a sun about to set.

Francis stepped away from the lilacs they were examining. "Ah, look at the time. I've kept you here so long!"

"It's cool, dude." Even if it was just flowers, Alfred still enjoyed learning so much about them.

"Then all is well. Tell me, which one is your favorite?"

"Oh, well... I don't think I really have one!" Alfred let out one of his usual loud and easy-going laughs, but to someone as perceptive as Francis, he couldn't quite mask the nervousness of it enough. As nice as the flowers were, for him to start talking about how lovely he thought one or the other was, or picking out favorites... that just seemed a little too lame! He was a guy, after all.

Francis paused for a moment, keeping his grin on. He just had to stop and wonder... Jones always seemed to speak everything on his mind, whether it was a good idea to do so or not. Why did he get so oddly shy and awkward at such seemingly random times? Well... it was no use thinking about that now. At the very least, Francis knew a way around this one. "That's all right. But tell me, if you just had to pick one at random, which would you choose?"

"Um, I guess I'd pick the roses... but that's a weird question. Why'd you ask?"

Francis simply responded with a big, and somewhat sly, smile before turning to the florist. "I would like one bouquet of red roses, _s'il vous plaît_."

Alfred simply looked at the florist putting the bouquet together and then hand it to Francis with mild confusion. Then this confusion burst into an embarrassed blush when the bouquet was shoved into his arms. "Ack! Thanks, but, uh, you know..." Alfred tried and failed to think of a suitable excuse to turn down the roses. After all, how many people would give a man flowers as a present?

"Oh, but I insist! They would look lovely on your desk, _non_?" Francis was surprised to find himself stifling a laugh. Usually, Jones' odd shy moments were frustrating... but with the way his embarrassment seemed to explode now, Francis somehow found it very entertaining.

"I guess so..." Alfred then partly buried his face in the roses, which almost completely muffled out the "thanks" he mumbled. Well, the petals were very soft, so Alfred could at least admit to himself that sticking his face into the flowers felt nice.

"_De rien._"

Walking back to the dorm was a lot more tense for Alfred than he figured it should be. But, he wondered, could anyone blame him? The weather was perfectly crisp, the roses were heavenly, and in the dreamy glow of the sunset, Francis just looked so _divine—_Alfred buried his face in the flowers just a little more as a wave of warm butterflies seemed to surge from his chest. Damnit... now his ears were red, he could just feel it. He must look awkward with his face shoved into the bouquet like this, but he reasoned that it was better than walking around with a face like a beet.

Francis, on the other hand, enjoyed the silence. Striking up a conversation with Jones could be so hard sometimes, so he was glad he didn't have to worry about that for now. Honestly, the boy was just too embarrassed to talk at the moment. Although, now that he thought about it a bit more... Was Jones perhaps a little too embarrassed? Maybe this was too much for him. Even if he did enjoy visiting the florist (and Francis could tell he liked it), maybe he was the type of person who disliked such big and fancy gestures of affection. And to Francis, that was odd, considering how noisy Jones usually was.

Francis slightly raised his gaze to the sky and relaxed his shoulders. Well, he figured... even if Jones did act slightly unpredictably in a weird way, things still seemed to be going well in general. As long as he got what he wanted, then such minor idiosyncrasies didn't matter.

After they returned to the dorm, Francis set the new vase down on Jones' desk, spent a few minutes gushing about how nice the flowers were, and then finally took his leave. Alfred just plopped down into his chair once it was all said and done, took a deep breath, and just relaxed for a moment. Geeze, Francis really liked flowers! The Frenchman was usually so uptight around Alfred, but after some gaming and especially after a trip to the florist, he seemed so much more easygoing.

And, Alfred figured, it was really nice for a change. Seeing that genuine, easy smile, the way his eyes lit up as he seemed to be in his element... Alfred plucked one of the roses out and gave it a huge whiff, letting a big and goofy grin spread across his face. And there was that warm fluttering feeling again. Alfred leaned back and knew then, even if he denied it to everyone else in the world, he would at least have to admit to himself that he had it pretty bad.

* * *

**Author's Note: **For those wondering about their favorites, France's national flower is the iris and America's is the rose.

Sorry about the long wait for a rather short chapter. I had a severe case of the Not Happy With This, and there are still parts I wish I could fix, but on the bright side... this is _so _much better than the original first draft. I hope everyone still found this chapter reasonably entertaining!


	5. Horror

Francis stood near the heavy curtain of the fitting room, listening to Nadia finish explaining her latest bit of gossip. "And _then _he told her to try seeing him again only after she grew a brain. Can you believe it?"

"Of course I can. How many times have they broken up? I'm afraid that I've lost count."

"I don't know—ten? Fifteen? Thirty times? Ugh." Francis could hear the distinct sound of soft fabric sliding against skin as Nadia slipped into a dress. He could perfectly envision Nadia rolling her eyes as she did so. "Honestly, Lyssandra and Jonah need to get their issues sorted out already."

Francis laughed. "Ah, but without their drama, what else would we have to talk about?" He could hear the zipper going up, followed by the belt getting fastened.

"Well... there's always that thing between you and Jones!" Francis blanched and the curtain flew open. "How's this one?"

"Ah... the dark red one definitely suited you better."

Nadia looked at herself in the mirror, examining the outfit at a few different angles for a moment. "Well, all right, then." She returned to the fitting room and closed the curtain again. "And don't think I didn't see that look of horror on your face! I bet you have tons of good stories."

"And there's a very good reason I don't share them. Living through them once is enough." The belt buckle made its distinct clinking noise, and then the zipper was pulled back down.

"Come on, it's been what... a month and a half now? You've got to share something good!"

Francis sighed. "I don't even know where to begin, Nadia. Everything about him is so repulsive! I have already learned to avoid dates that involve food, to start. If you can even call them dates." By now, she was putting her original outfit back on.

"No way. You haven't made your first move yet? You've been with him for longer than any of your other relationships and you still haven't done that?"

"Ah, but you must understand that doing such a thing would require that I touch him." By now, it was very clear to Francis that, somehow or another, he got Jones to fall for him. It would be easy to get things rolling between themselves. But whenever he tried to do something, he would see all the acne, or one of those baggy hoodies that he knew Jones wiped his hands on whenever he ate, and he lost the will to do it. Add to this the fact that Jones himself never acted on his feelings, and they had a relationship that just wasn't going where it needed to go.

Nadia pulled the curtain open again, holding up the clothing they had agreed to be perfect. "So, what do you two do, exactly, on your so-called dates?" They headed back into the store, leaving the clothes they picked with an attendant.

"Well... nothing really. He is too stingy with his money to do much." Briefly, some memories of the better moments flashed in his mind. Walking silently through the brisk weather, the odd compliment he received that one time in the coffee shop, that swelling feeling of elation when they finally defeated the Blood Dragon... surprisingly, spending time with Jones wasn't the worst thing in the world. Francis fought down those memories and instead focused on the numerous times that Jones was noisy, rude, and downright aggravating, allowing a disdainful frown to slip on his face. Thinking of good times was always nice, but for right now, the last thing Francis wanted was to leave any hint to Nadia that there was something remotely enjoyable about being with Jones. Knowing her, she would get the whole school talking in a day.

"Is that so... I wonder where it all goes. Because it's definitely not going into his clothing." They started to browse through some new scarves.

"Or taking care of his face." Francis held in his feeling of relief at changing the subject.

"Or his hair. Hey, isn't this one nice?" Nadia turned to Francis with one of the scarves wrapped loosely around her neck.

"Ah, _oui_. It will go perfectly with the peacoat we picked out earlier!" Nadia smiled, then took off the scarf and held onto it. Francis then shook his head. "Also, have I mentioned yet how stingy he is with his time? Even though we speak to each other at school every day, he is always booked after classes for most of the week. What could he be doing that is so important?" That's right—even if spending time with Jones wasn't entirely bad, Jones himself was still quite awful.

"Maybe he's really secretly a superhero, just like those comic books he's always reading. Pimples, the Boy Wonder!" The two of them broke out into a fit of laughter, and when they recovered, Nadia looked back up to Francis. "So how do you plan on making your move, anyway? You don't have forever!"

"Ah. I think I may have a good plan for tonight; Jones and I are going to see a movie. I won't be able to see his face, and I will even have a film to distract me. This way, I can do something without having to think that I'm doing it to him."

"Well, good luck then! I've already got your Ferrari set aside, you know. Just tell me how it goes." Nadia smirked and briefly, Francis felt a fleeting bit of joy as he thought about the car.

Soon enough, they were looking at warm hats for the winter and talking about whether a mutual friend of theirs was really having an affair with a teacher or not.

* * *

"So... you're sure you're okay with this? Because we can always pick a different one!" Alfred was trying to keep down his fidgeting as he and Francis stood by the ticket counter. Seeing a horror movie was okay with Kiku or Arthur, but Francis, he wasn't so sure about. Even though he had been a generally nice guy until now, Alfred wasn't sure if he had enough patience for something like this.

"It is fine. We should pick up our tickets now so that we aren't late." To Francis, it was clear that Jones was rather anxious about the movie. If the other boy was going to be frightened for this whole event, then that just made it easier for Francis to make his first move. So, of course he was going to stick to this choice, no matter how many lame attempts Jones made to change it.

Alfred steeled himself while Francis got their tickets. If Francis was okay with a horror film, then he would be too! He couldn't chicken out or let on exactly how scared he was—that just wouldn't be heroic. And there was no way he could act unheroically in front of Francis, of all people. Besides, maybe this time he would finally overcome his fears!

As they picked up enough food for three people and seated themselves in the theater, Alfred tried to calm his nerves. He tried to concentrate on his food, but it was no use. As the previews went on, he couldn't stop thinking about the possible scenarios, couldn't get the vague hints he saw in the trailer out of his head, couldn't stop his body from remembering the fear, and now he could feel his blood turn cold...

Francis, on the other hand, felt that the most horrifying thing he would experience tonight is the sound of Jones wolfing down all of that disgusting concession stand food.

Once the movie started, Francis could swear that he just barely heard Jones whimper. He looked to the side, and in the dim light coming from the screen, he could make out the large soda and the tray of nachos and cheese sitting in the armrest between them. What could he do? Reaching out to Jones in some way would be a great idea, but with those things in the way... maybe he could start with something else.

"I'm sure that it will not be too bad, in the end," he said in a hushed voice.

"N-no way! Of course not! This sort of thing doesn't scare me one bit!" Well, Jones' voice clearly sounded terrified. Francis frowned. How far would Jones be willing to go to act as heroically as he claims? Francis turned his attention back to the film and tried to think. The characters were packing up their van and leaving for the road trip... and Jones could not possibly chew on his popcorn any louder. Or slurp on his soda any noisier. Francis sighed and leaned on the armrest away from Jones. Despite the fact that they were sitting in a darkened theater with the movie going at full volume, Francis still found it difficult to drown out those particularly repulsive habits of Jones. It would probably be better to wait until the boy polished off all of his snacks before he tried something.

And Francis anticipated that waiting through that would be the worst of it, but found himself proven wrong when the characters started to delve deeper into the forest. It was then that the odd mumbles he heard earlier had evolved into distinct words.

"Oh no oh no no no Zoey don't go there...!" Well, this wasn't good. It figured that Jones would be the type to talk during movies.

Francis turned to the other and said quietly, "It is all right. It's only a movie, after all."

"No it's not! Oh man, now she's going by herself—turn back already! Aw, shit, she's going to have her head cracked open and they'll see that thing eating her brains-!" Jones cut himself off to watch things unfold while Francis recovered from his slight shock. Well, that certainly backfired—now he was louder than before! Francis could feel his face flush as he heard other people in the audience groan and whisper at Jones' outburst.

It looked like Jones could only be consoled wordlessly. So, Francis reached over to Jones—carefully avoiding the tray of nachos—and grasped his shoulder. He seemed to relax a little at that, and fortunately, he stopped talking.

Okay. This was something. This was definitely something going in the right direction. But now what? Just keeping his hand on the other's shoulder like this... it was more of a longtime business partner grasp, and less of a romantic gesture. Should he hold Jones' hand? That would be the logical next step... but Jones was eating now. Hm... what if he rubbed his neck? Yes, that would be all right!

So, Francis lifted his hand and went for the back of Jones' neck. A moment later, he felt hair that was too slick on his fingertips, and he reflexively pulled his hand back. Francis started to feel a little anxious himself. _All right, _he thought, _you are past due on doing this. There is a Ferrari waiting for you. It's just hair. Gross, but still just hair._

He took in a breath and felt his resolve rise. He started to move his hand forward again. And then the sound of glass shattering blasted his ears.

Jones screamed, he hugged Francis' arm in a deathgrip, there was the sound of chips getting knocked over, and then the American was burying his face in the other's elbow. "Oh god, Francis-!" He looked back up to the screen and then started saying "oh god oh god oh god" like some holy chant.

And Francis was frozen. He could hear the groans and the hushed voices again. That's right. Other people from the school were also here. They would talk, and rumors spread fast. It didn't help that Jones fucking _screamed Francis' name loud enough for the whole audience to hear. _

Francis could feel his anger rise and Jones hugged his arm tighter. _Dammit, why is he rubbing his dirty face all over my arm? _This was a perfectly good shirt! And now it was getting god knows what kind of oils in it and all wrinkled and crumpled...Francis clenched his fists and at that moment, things felt hopeless. How was he ever going to fuck Jones if he could barely even touch him?

And...what was that warm substance settling on his thigh? Francis looked down and saw in the low light an overturned nacho tray on his lap.

Never before had he felt such a blazing rage erupt from his very core, and he yanked his arm away and stormed off as quickly as possible, lest he give in to his urge to destroy something.

In a single moment, all of Alfred's anxieties honed in on his friend, and he forgot where he was right then. "Hey—Francis? Francis! Wait up!" In one swift motion, he got up and went after the Frenchman.

Francis was walking faster than he ever had before, and still his heated blood was pushing him to go on, go faster—no matter how much he picked up the pace, it didn't seem to be enough to calm himself. Alfred made sure to keep his friend in sight, and when they finally left and turned the corner and went on a far less crowded street, he jogged up to the other and put his hand on his shoulder. Instantly, Francis whipped around and faced him, throwing off the hand from himself.

Once Alfred saw Francis' ferocious snarl, he could feel himself freeze as all the blood drained from his face. He tried to swallow but his mouth was too dry. "L-look, I... I'm sorry." He could barely say it, and all the fear and dryness in his mouth unraveled his voice into something shaky, unsure, barely even there, and Alfred couldn't even recognize it as his.

"_Sorry_? That is all you can say? Just _sorry_?" Alfred winced at the bitter anger lacing Francis' voice at that word. Francis stepped back and gestured at the cheese stain on his pants. "Sorry cannot repair this. It certainly can't repair you. And as for things between us," he threw up his arms, "well, they could never work in the first place!" Francis turned and briskly walked straight back to his house.

Alfred stayed glued to the spot, unable to move a muscle until a few minutes after Francis left. Then the adrenaline wore off, and he felt sick all over and ready to collapse. He stuck his hands in his pockets and slowly shuffled back to his dorm, ready to fall into bed and never wake up. For the rest of the night, even as he finally drifted off to a fitful rest, he couldn't get Francis' enraged expression and voice out of his head.


	6. Alone Under the Streetlight

Alfred was sitting on Kiku's bed, going through his third box of Pocky, while Kiku stared in his direction, shocked. The American had dropped by unexpectedly on that early weekend morning, and had just now finished recounting the events of the previous night.

At first, Kiku was too stunned to think, but after a few moments, he managed to collect his thoughts together. Then he took a small breath to compose himself—an action that any casual observer would find unnecessary, considering Kiku's demeanor—and looked to his friend with a heavy heart. He didn't want to have to say this, but...

"Maybe it is for the better, Alfred-kun. Francis-san does not have a very good reputation. There have actually been rumors that he has been-"

A groan from Alfred cut him off. "Yeah, yeah, I know, I heard it a million times already. Francis is trying to, I dunno, kiss me or sleep with me or steal my underwear or god knows what! Just because he's gonna get a private jet or some shit in return." Almost imperceptibly, Kiku flinched as the other went on. This definitely wasn't the most effective way to go about the situation. "Anyway, Francis is my friend, and no hero believes in a bunch of rumors over his friends! Besides, I thought you already knew how screwed up gossip can get."

Kiku made a small nod. Yes, he was well aware of how far rumors strayed from the truth... but he couldn't help but feel that the ones about Francis were a little closer to the mark. Still, he knew Alfred for long enough now to know that whenever his hero values were involved, there was absolutely no convincing him otherwise. The best he could do was be supportive of his friend and be there for him if things really fell out with Francis. And if last night was any indication of how things would end up, then the falling out was really more a question of when. "I understand. I am sorry for doubting you."

"Don't worry, dude. I know you're just looking out for me! Anyway, I just wanna know how to make up with Francis. Somehow, I don't think saying sorry would be enough, but... I dunno." At the very least, just saying sorry wasn't enough last night, that was for sure.

Kiku took a moment to make sure he was hearing things right. After all, why would Alfred be the one to apologize in this situation? Before he let this thought process go any farther, Kiku slipped his eyes shut and let out a long breath. Alfred already made his decision, so it couldn't be helped; clearly, he just wanted advice on how to go about it. So, Kiku opened his eyes and replied, "It is important to sound sincere when you say the apology, but I do not think you will have any problems there. Just make sure to do it in private. And try to have a nice gift as well; someone like Francis-san would expect nothing less from a proper apology."

"Hmm..." Alfred looked up and thought about it for a moment. It definitely sounded like good advice. But what would Francis want? Besides a new pair of pants that would probably cost Alfred about three paychecks. He mulled it over for a few moments before he was interrupted by Kiku.

"I am certain it will all work out, whatever you decide on." Kiku forced a small and encouraging smile on his face, which luckily didn't look out of the ordinary for him.

Alfred returned it with his own appreciative smile. "Thanks, man."

* * *

That Monday found Francis sitting with his friends during lunch, like usual.

"...and he ended up being such an awful drunk that I had to go with the senator's son that night instead," he explained. He was in the middle of recounting his experiences from the dinner party that Saturday when he looked for someone to hook up with. After his awful night with Jones, Francis was desperate to find someone pleasant that he could bed without putting up any commitment. Even if he did have some troubles at first, when he finally got what he wanted, he found that it felt even better than usual—probably because he had been so deprived for so long.

He was about to continue his story when everyone's attention seemed to be drawn somewhere behind him, and they started talking in low voices.

"...don't look now..."

"...can't even take a hint..."

"...just what did you do to him, Francis?..."

The Frenchman paled, there was only one person they would talk about like that... he turned around and saw none other than Jones approaching. The American looked nervous and kept his hands behind his back as he walked up to the table.

"Um... hey, Francis," he said, looking a little fidgety. "Can we... go somewhere else? And talk?"

The other people at the table snickered and exchanged mean smirks, and at that, Francis could feel his anger and embarrassment spike up. Wasn't he clear that night? Things were over between them! He wanted nothing more to do with Jones! He took a deep breath to try reigning in his emotion, then sat back into a more confident posture. "I don't see why we should. Whatever you have to say, it should be good enough to say in front my friends as well." Normally, Francis was aware that it was a bad idea to do most anything in front of his friends, and he would have definitely jumped at the chance to step away. But now, his judgment was clouded by his anger and by his sudden desire not to give Jones _anything—_not even a little time or a little effort to get up and walk somewhere else.

Even though Alfred's capacity to feel shame was far lower than average, at this very moment, all he wanted was to take Francis away somewhere else and escape all the haughty glares and snickers. But if this is what he was going to have to work with... he couldn't sidetrack his apology trying to drag Francis out of his place. So, he took in a shaky breath, shut out everyone else, and looked at Francis as levelly as he could.

"I-I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. Really, really sorry. It wasn't right, and I should have told you something ahead of time. I think you're a great guy, and I really want to still be your friend, and so I hope you can forgive me!" Before Francis could even think of a response, Alfred pulled his arms out from behind his back, revealing that he was holding something, and he shoved that something into Francis' arms. Francis glanced down at the thing he was holding—flowers, he noted—and then glanced back up to see Jones as he quickly blended back in to the crowded lunch room. Francis felt his face grow hot as looked back at the bouquet. Irises.

The rest of the table erupted into laughter as Francis turned back around, mind completely unable to form a single thought. He only started to snap out of it when the mirth began to die down, and he caught someone wondering just what kind of flowers are those and why did Jones pick them? Francis took in a steadying breath and glanced at the bouquet again. Why _did _Jones pick these? Was it a random choice? Well... knowing how he was, Francis reasoned that Jones probably knew what he was doing when he picked these out. Just, the funny thing was, Francis didn't even remember mentioning this...

"Hey, Francis, don't die on us here!" His attention snapped to the owner of the voice, Lyssandra, who currently wore a face-splitting grin.

Then Nadia spoke up, "Wow, I am _so_ sorry I made you put up with him." She clearly wasn't sorry. "What are you going to do with the flowers, anyway?"

Francis took a moment to remember where he was and who he was sitting with and who it was that started all this, and then he replied, "I will throw them away, of course. He cannot expect to have me again." Yes, that's right, he was still pretty mad at Jones, and he still didn't want to give the boy a single thing. Even if Jones would never know what happened to the flowers, just keeping them around the house would feel to Francis like he was conceding something.

* * *

A week and a day later, Francis found himself tossing and turning that night, unable to fall asleep. His mind just couldn't stop buzzing, filling up with partial thoughts that were surfacing and withdrawing and even clashing with each other. He needed to figure out why Chantrea was mad at him, remember to ask Reggie about the Hyatt tomorrow, fume over playing therapist for Jonah and Lyssandra again, fix his double-booked appointments, and why did Camilla have to volunteer him like that, although he couldn't turn down an opportunity for shopping—

Francis sat up, took a deep breath, and turned on his bedside lamp. Immediately, a bouquet of somewhat wilted irises came into view, and Jones' apologetic face flashed very briefly in his mind. Francis frowned at the flowers—he would have to replace them soon. Replace those flowers he didn't have the heart to trash in the end, because really, they were innocent bystanders in this whole mess, and it would be a waste to get rid of such a nice set.

He shook his head, got up, and started to get dressed to go out. Really, it was a bit shameful that he found himself still thinking about Jones and that last incident whenever he saw the irises. They hadn't spoken to each other at all since then. Surely, Jones had moved on by now.

Francis put on his coat and shoes and left his house. Hopefully, a walk in this chilly weather would cool his mind down enough to let him sleep.

It was rather nice and quiet outside, and while Francis found himself appreciating this at first, it wasn't long before his mind went back to its chaotic state from before. He had gotten so caught up in all those thoughts and details that he lost track of time and direction. When he finally took a seat on a bench in a small and deserted street, he had no idea how long he had been walking, and had barely even noticed himself sit down in the first place.

Then there was the stark sound of steady panting and quick footsteps, and Francis snapped out of his thoughts and took in his surroundings. He recognized the street he was on... did he really walk this far? As if in response, the slight strain and wobbliness in his legs began to act up.

While Francis was processing his location and the feeling in his legs, the sounds of jogging came closer. Finally, he chanced a glance at the jogger... and saw that it was none other than Jones. In that instant, Jones focused his attention on Francis, and then they were making eye contact. An awkward moment of silence passed between them as Francis found himself stunned and as Jones slowed to a stop.

Then Francis frowned and looked away, deciding he would rather stare at the street. Jones cautiously stepped into the light shining over the bench and evened out his breathing. A great tension seemed to fill the space around them, and it continued to hang there for a while before Jones finally broke the silence.

"Uh... hey."

And then another long silence. Francis started to feel his anger come back, although now it felt more like annoyance and less like some raging fire. He rolled his eyes once he realized that Jones wasn't planning on leaving until something happened, and then he finally replied to other's greeting.

"Hello."

"How've you been?"

Francis shrugged a shoulder in response and felt his anger ebb as he started to contemplate Jones' behavior. The other boy sounded unusually meek. Was he seriously still trying to reconcile their relationship?

"How... how were the flowers?"

So vulnerable, so pleading and honest—somehow, that simple question held so much weight, and in the quiet and empty street, Francis felt himself get hit with all of it. His eyes widened and he finally looked up to other boy, who was fidgeting nervously, bathed in the warm glow of the streetlight. "I don't understand. I thought it was clear that we were never speaking to each other again." It came out as less of a statement and more of a question.

Unexpectedly, Jones quit the fidgeting and gave a small, gentle smile. "That night might've sucked pretty bad, and you might've said some mean things, but that won't stop me from being your friend. I know that sometimes people do things they don't mean when they're mad. So, I'm okay with forgiving and forgetting."

The way he smiled, the gentleness of his voice, the soft light bathing his features... it was so warm. And suddenly, Francis found that when it was just the two of them alone in the middle of the night, Alfred so patient and kind... well, it was just hard to stay mad.

"...I suppose I can forgive and forget as well." Francis glanced away, and then it struck him just how surreal this whole situation felt.

After a beat, Alfred's face lit up so brightly, and he was back to his usual self. "Yeah! Awesome!" He brought out his arms as if to give a hug, and then appeared to think better of it and instead he jammed his hands in the front pocket of his sweatshirt. "My night has just been made!"

Francis smiled weakly in return, unable to get caught up in the cheer. This whole situation was just too odd. This sort of thing just does not happen. But somehow, he was friends with Alfred again. What did that mean?

"Anyway," Alfred said, "we should probably head home now, it's getting kinda late. But maybe we can hang out tomorrow or something?"

Once Alfred mentioned going home, Francis frowned, and felt himself grow more anxious as he remembered all the stressful rest he was getting there. Oh, and now he found himself trying to process this... whatever it was... he just had with Alfred. Well. It somehow felt a little liberating when it happened, but now he was back to square one. Before he would be able to sleep tonight, he would need to do something more distracting and exhausting than take a walk... he looked up to Alfred, and then got an idea. Now that they were on good terms again, Francis knew exactly how he could make himself feel better.

"Actually... do you mind if I visit you now?"

* * *

"So... what did... Chantrea... Camilla... and... Jonah... do to piss you off?" Alfred was laying on his bed, squinting at the television screen and trying to read the little names that were flying around the fray.

"Ah... well, who said that those are the names of people I even know?" Naming video game characters after people he was currently mad at, so that he could virtually beat them up, seemed like such a crude and childish way to deal with things. It was bad enough that he actually found himself doing it; there was no way he'd admit it out loud.

Of course, even Alfred could see through that one. "Well... I guess I'm just glad that none of them are named after me." Even though he didn't realize he was doing it, Francis smiled at the joke, which made Alfred's own grin spread even wider. With that, Alfred cheerily went back to reading his science textbook and occasionally glancing at the game.

It was nearly two hours later when Francis finally felt tired from the gaming. The screen held the character selection menu while Francis let his controller slide to the floor, leaned back, and rubbed his eyes. They felt funny. Sore, somehow. Hopefully they wouldn't end up looking terribly bloodshot, especially by the time he had to go back to school tomorrow.

After he spent a few moments relaxing himself, he noticed how quiet it had gotten. He turned to Alfred and could barely hear slow and even breaths coming from the other. On closer inspection, Francis found that the boy had indeed fallen asleep, face planted on his textbook. Somehow, Alfred's face appeared more delicate and serene this way, and Francis could almost admit that the whole scene was endearing. He stepped back and shook his head. Yes, this definitely had to be the strangest night he's ever had.

His mind began to turn over everything that had happened, but then he yawned and found that he was finally too tired to think properly. While Francis was happy to have achieved his goal, he realized that there was no place here to sleep, and so he would have to walk back home. Then he looked back down to Alfred and smiled; things went better tonight than he expected.

Very carefully, so as to not wake up the other boy, Francis put away his glasses, replaced the book with a pillow, and then covered him up with a spare blanket. Then he left a note thanking Alfred for his hospitality and quietly left the dorm.

As Francis walked back home, he felt himself in a lighter mood, despite his exhaustion. At that time, through all the haziness in his mind, he still found himself able to understand one thing... and that was a much greater appreciation for his friendship with Alfred.


	7. Tricks and Treats

Francis was leaning against Science Building I, waiting for Alfred to finish up his last class. As he idled, a ghost sticker on a nearby window caught Francis' eye, and he found himself staring at it, understanding what it meant, before looking away. Even though it had been several years since he moved, Francis still had these uncommon moments where he would distinctly remember, with some parts resignation and some parts homesickness, that he was an outsider here.

He sighed. Why was he going to carve a pumpkin with Alfred again?

"Hey, Francis!" called out a loud and familiar voice. The Frenchman blinked back into reality and looked up to see Alfred peering at him curiously. "You feeling all right?"

Just like that, Francis pushed away his gloomy thoughts and gave a small smile. "_Oui._ Just daydreaming. Shall we head out?" Alfred grinned and nodded enthusiastically, and then they were off to the Technology Building to meet up with Kiku.

It was a tradition at United World Academy that, a few days before Halloween, students gather in the quad to carve pumpkins. By the end of the day, the school staff and student council would gather all the carved pumpkins and decorate the campus with them, and then on Halloween night, they would light them all up. This was an event Francis missed in the past, and he never planned on attending it in the future, but here he was...

Although, as he and Alfred continued forward and chatted amicably, Francis quickly remembered why he agreed to come along. It was because Alfred invited him there, and he didn't get to spend much time with him after school as it was. With Francis' other friends, this wasn't a problem, but with Alfred, there was something... well. There were a few perks to being Alfred's friend that he didn't have with any others.

"So, dude, you got any ideas for the pumpkin?"

"Hm... how about a beautiful mermaid?" For example, there was Alfred's sincere devotion to Francis. That one was especially clear, considering what happened with the horror movie night and all.

"A mermaid? You know it's supposed to be something scary, right?"

"But mermaids are rather frightening. They use their songs and beauty to lure humans deep into the water, where they devour them." But ever since they reconciled, Francis started to notice some other ones. Like that strange honesty Alfred always had, as compared against the two-faced nature of his other friends.

"Well, yeah, you got me there. But mermaids don't _look _scary!"

"That is true. Do you have any ideas, then?" And there was Alfred's constant cheeriness, even if it could be obnoxious sometimes.

"Oh yeah! How about that little alien from the movie _Alien_? The one that burst out of the dude's chest! We could put in all the blood and everything!"

"...Can such an elaborate thing even be carved into a pumpkin?" And then, there was one thing Francis found particularly entertaining...

"Well. Hm. Maybe not! Oh, but wait, I got another one! What about Slenderm—" Suddenly, Alfred felt Francis' hand very lightly graze against his own, and the last part of his sentence disappeared into a hitch in his breath. Francis' smiled widened at the blush that washed over Alfred's face, before the latter took a deep breath and stuck his hands in his pockets. Then the blush faded away, almost entirely, and Alfred turned to Francis and continued. "Sorry. What I was saying was, we could try putting Slenderman on the pumpkin!" And just like that, his cheer was back in full swing.

Casually, as if nothing had happened, Francis asked, "Who is Slenderman?" Oh yes, this was something Francis found incredibly amusing. One little brush of fingertips, one somewhat sensual stare, and it was enough to bring Alfred's vibrant energy to a sudden, shy stop.

It was like that, with Alfred energetically explaining and making suggestions, and Francis listening and throwing in a few of his own ideas, that the pair walked towards the Technology Building and met up with Kiku.

Almost immediately, it became clear to Francis that Kiku was a reserved sort of person. Once they started walking, Francis wondered how the other two managed to become friends, considering their opposite personalities. Then, halfway to the quad, he started to think up an interesting idea. Teasing Alfred was fun, but how much more fun would it be if there was a third person involved? It could be like a game—see how many times he could rile up Alfred without Kiku noticing.

And Francis had to admit, he loved these sorts of games.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to set up a table in the quad, complete with pumpkin and carving tools.

"So, guys, what's it gonna be? It's gotta be something scary!" Alfred said, leading the discussion on which design they should use.

"I don't really have anything in mind, Alfred-kun. I'm fine with whatever you choose."

"I still like my succubus idea. Or the siren. Or the mermaid..." Both Kiku and Alfred were looking at Francis with their individual versions of a deadpan face."What? Those sorts of creatures, who use beauty to lure the humans they prey on, are the scariest to me! If they truly existed, then I would probably be dead by now!" But the way his nostrils flared and the way his smile turned lecherous implied that Francis found such a situation a lot less scary, and a lot more enjoyable. After a few moments lost in the sorts of thoughts that the other two were glad he kept to himself, Francis finally composed himself. "What sort of thing do you find scary, then?"

Alfred took only a moment to think before he replied. "Ghosts. Definitely ghosts." He nodded definitively. "Enough said."

Francis smirked. "Then the answer is clear. We will carve a ghost... of the beautiful lady variety."

"Dude, seriously? Is that the only thing that's been on your mind today or what?"

Kiku suddenly cut in, effectively halting the conversation despite his low voice. "I think I have a good idea what to draw now."

The light pout on Alfred's face changed into his usual smile as he turned to Kiku. "Well, all right, then! I'm sure whatever you pick will be great!"

Francis nodded his assent, and so Kiku got to work on the pumpkin. Then the Frenchman turned to Alfred and shot him a very nice and charming smile. "So, how do you think you did on that Algebra exam? Excellent, as usual?" he asked.

A light dusting of blush bloomed on Alfred's face, and his eyes darted away for a moment before he answered. "Uh, yeah. I think I got in in the bag. What about you?"

From the corner of his eye, Francis saw that Kiku was too busy with his drawing to notice anything, and so his smile widened—this would be too easy. One point already! A pleasant expression and a compliment always got this sort of reaction from Alfred. "I did rather well. Although that pesky question about identifying functions certainly gave me some trouble."

Alfred relaxed and then offered to discuss the problem while they waited, which Francis gladly accepted. The latter wasn't the most interested in Algebra—he did quite well enough on his own—but Alfred certainly shone when he explained these sorts of things, and Francis found that he rather liked it.

The second point in Francis' little game came up while Kiku was putting the finishing touches on his drawing, and he and Alfred were discussing a new video game. When Kiku glanced back at his drawing, Francis brushed the back of his hand against Alfred's arm, making it look like an accident. Still, it was enough to stop the other boy mid-sentence, and Francis found that he had to hold back laughter as he watched Alfred pretend that he was actually going into a coughing fit. Oh, Alfred was always such a bad liar... Kiku seemed more confused about the situation than he was convinced, but at least he didn't question it.

Not long after that, Kiku finished his drawing—he ended up making an adorable blob-shaped ghost wearing ribbons, much to Alfred's disappointment. Francis found his third point when he handed Alfred a knife and purposely left little space on the hilt for Alfred to grab, forcing him to brush his fingertips against Francis' hand. Alfred tried to calm his gut reaction as much as possible, since Kiku was watching them this time. Naturally, the way he tried to force away his blush only made him more conspicuous, and Francis once again found himself holding back laughter.

For his fourth point, Francis stepped behind Alfred while he was carving and asked how things were going. Of course, he did this when Kiku was momentarily looking down at his phone, and he leaned forward enough for his warm breath to brush against Alfred's ear. From where he was standing, Francis watched with a smug smirk as the blood flowed to the tips of Alfred's ears. What he couldn't see from his place was the frustrated look on the other's face.

By the time Francis got a fifth point, Alfred had finished the carving. It happened when Kiku was busy gathering the carving supplies; Alfred fit the top back on to the pumpkin, and Francis brushed his hand against the other's as he moved to help hold the vegetable in place. Alfred shot him a reluctant, yet questioning, look, but before Francis could respond to it, Kiku turned back to them and said he was ready to turn in the pumpkin.

* * *

"Yeah, Francis, the strategy system in that game was really fun. You should try it sometime," Alfred said, though his cheer seemed subdued now. He, Francis, and Kiku were currently walking the longer path towards the dorms, winding behind buildings so they could avoid the crowds.

"Then, I look forward to it." Francis shot the other a pleased expression, and even though he didn't do it with the intention of scoring another point, he still found himself enjoying a brief, nervous twitch from Alfred. Ever since they left the carving event, Alfred seemed more fidgety, and his face seemed to permanently turn a shade more red.

Silence fell over the three of them as they each dwelled on their own thoughts. While Alfred was nervous and confused, and Francis was smugly satisfied, Kiku felt himself becoming more and more of a third wheel. There was obviously something going on between those two, whether he liked it or not. As they continued on, Alfred once again glanced discreetly at Francis, trying to keep tabs on the Frenchman's hands and figure out what he was thinking. This time, Francis caught Alfred's eye, and they shared yet another one of their... moments.

For Kiku, this was the last straw—it was too much to handle. Abruptly, he stopped and turned to the other two, and said, "I apologize, but I just remembered that I needed to buy more tea. Please, excuse me." Without waiting for a reply, he bowed curtly, then quickly walked away.

Francis and Alfred watched Kiku leave until he disappeared, the latter with a gape on his face. Francis, on the other hand, couldn't help but feel a little bad for the boy. He didn't mean to scare him off. In fact, wasn't it his intention in the beginning to not get caught at all?

Well, at the very least, he still had fun while it lasted. Maybe, if he ever saw Kiku again, he would make it up to him somehow.

Having reached a suitable conclusion for himself, Francis grinned and asked, "Shall we go, then?" Alfred nodded dumbly in response, and then the two continued to the dorms. As they went, they separated even more from the crowds on campus. Now they were walking down a path that wound between currently empty buildings, not another soul in sight.

Alfred scratched at the back of his neck and glanced at Francis' hands, which were now hanging loosely at the other's sides. "Man, Kiku sure seemed... weirded out by the end of it. I hope he's all right." Even though Alfred didn't quite understand what was up with Francis today, he was pretty sure that it was the reason Kiku fled all the same.

Francis couldn't quite hide his smirk, and he lightly shook his head. "I wonder what was wrong with him."

Alfred just quirked an eyebrow up, appearing incredulous. He looked like he was going to say something, but then another blush flared up and instead he faced forward, grunting out a simple "huh" as his response.

And then it suddenly dawned on Francis that maybe Alfred actually figured out the little game. Usually, he just teased the other every once in a while, so it was actually believably an accident. But eight "accidents" in such a short span of time... Alfred may be oblivious, but surely, even he could pick up on something like this. Francis mentally scolded himself for not even considering this possibility.

Silence fell once again, and Francis peeked up at Alfred. His face was still a little flushed, and it held a rather strained expression, like he was thinking about something. Francis then wondered if maybe he was being a little unfair to Alfred today. Sure, it was cute to get the other boy all worked up, but there was such a thing as going overboard... So, Francis gently placed his hand on Alfred's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Alfred jolted and looked down to Francis, and the strained look on his face immediately softened to something more unsure. "Uh, well, I was just... thinking."

"About...?" Francis nudged on Alfred's shoulder, and they both stopped walking and turned to face each other.

"About, um..." Alfred gulped and forgot that he was going to say anything. Francis' face was a little too close for comfort, and Alfred was getting hung up on the other's eyes, unable to look away from them. They were so pretty, when he got the chance to have a good look at them...

"Go on." Francis gently squeezed Alfred's shoulder.

The action seemed to send an electric bolt through Alfred's body—and it managed to force him to snap out of it. "Well, see, I was wondering if... if maybe today, you were, you know... doing some things... on p-purpose?" The moment he uttered it, Alfred felt incredibly stupid. Yes, it seemed a little too much to be an accident, but honestly... what sort of motivation would Francis have to do something like that on purpose?

Alfred swallowed thickly and stepped back. Suddenly, he was feeling very, very warm. Francis watched the other's Adam's apple bob up and down, and without realizing it, he licked his lips, which were currently formed into a more predatory smile. Alfred had such a beautiful strong neck, and not for the first time, Francis found himself wanting to kiss and bite at it. He tore his vision away from Alfred's neck and looked up to his eyes, lovely sky blue eyes. Right now, they were so full of want...

Finally, Francis replied, "And what sorts of things did you think I was doing on purpose?" He took two small steps forward, leaving their bodies separated by only a paper thin slice of air.

"Um, well..." Alfred tried to nudge himself back, and only then realized that somehow Francis had him up to a wall. He could feel the other's hands run down his arms, and the simple touch seemed to fire away all of his blood like fireworks. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears. Then he looked more closely at Francis' face, caught that knowing expression, and then it dawned on him. "W-wait... this... is on purpose too?"

Francis warmed at the innocent question. "Would there be any problems with that?"

Alfred suddenly found himself out of breath, so he took a moment to breathe in, and in not even another moment, he understood what his answer should be. He felt all of his insides jump and jolt, and he didn't know if that was a force that was egging him on, or trying to hold him back at the last minute.

But he couldn't back down now, and through all his inner tumult, all he could do was tilt his head down in the affirmative. Then he said in a voice made small by wild nerves, "I... wish you were closer."

Mixing in with all of his desire was a sudden rush of giddiness, and Francis gladly pressed himself into Alfred's body. Who would he be if denied such a cute request? Then, as if it was programmed to happen from the start, Alfred bent his head down and Francis tilted his up, and their lips slid into place against each other. Francis wrapped one arm around the small of Alfred's back, and tangled the fingers of his other hand in the hair at the nape of the neck.

Alfred gently grabbed onto Francis' shoulders before pressing into the kiss further, rubbing his lips against Francis'. At that, Francis ran his tongue along Alfred's lower lip, and suddenly the latter jolted away. His breathing had gotten heavier, his face was bright red, and his eyes were so big... Francis smiled at the sight. Alfred was so much fun.

They stood like that for a few long moments, and finally, Alfred managed to straighten up and level out his breathing. Then he broke out of Francis' grasp so that he could pinch the back of his hand. "Uh... nope. Didn't hurt."

Francis just shook his head and chuckled, in that deep and throaty laugh which Alfred enjoyed so much. "Oh, Alfred. I assure you that you are not dreaming."

"Um. Okay." He nodded dumbly, and then the two of them continued forward in a very comfortable silence. Francis enjoyed sneaking glances at the other boy, the shock clearly lingering for a good while. Alfred, in the meantime, kept turning over everything that just happened in his head. Francis' dazzling smile, the way he said Alfred's name in that accent... Oh _god, _that accent...

...And, of course, the way Francis' warm lips felt against his. The way they pressed against each other. Oh, yes... he already loved kissing. He wanted more of it. Definitely, lots more kissing in the future.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Finally, it's here! Chapter seven! Sorry about the wait, real life just really got in the way of writing lately. Even if I run into obstacles, though, I like this story too much to leave it unfinished!

Anyway, going along with the spirit of Hetalia, I'll include a little culture note at the end here! Why was Francis so sad in the beginning? Well, in France, Halloween isn't really a thing. In fact, people there didn't really know about it until the 90s. The holiday achieved some popularity for a time, but it has since waned. Of course, American businesses (like the Disneyland there) hold celebrations there, and some places and people celebrate more than others... but it's definitely not the nationwide Big Deal like it is in America.

On the other hand, ever since Halloween caught on there, there have been people who were against it. For them, it's another American thing that's being imposed on others.

Now, a national holiday they do celebrate in France is All Saints' Day and All Souls' Day, on November first and second, respectively. Students are on break during that time, and banks and post offices and such are closed those days. I'm not sure how many of you might know about these days, but they're basically rather solemn traditions. All Saints' Day honors the saints who don't have their own days, while All Souls' Day is a time for honoring and remembering family and friends who have passed away.

So... that's a little background on that! I actually didn't know any of that stuff myself, so I put in some research. Unfortunately, the stuff I found on Halloween in France wasn't much, and it all seemed a bit dated... but since I couldn't find much very easily, I just figured it really did fizzle out in France. I could be entirely wrong, so if someone can correct me on any of this, I would love to hear it! Then I will edit this author's note accordingly.

Anyway, if all that stuff is remotely true, then... Francis, being Francis, is very proud of his language and culture! He doesn't like having American things pushed onto him, and of course, he has always partook in French holidays. But then he moves to a very big country where millions and millions of people hype up over Halloween, and not so much on the following two days... well, every so often, when the timing is right and he's left alone with his thoughts, maybe his pride comes back to hurt him. And hey, pride or not, anyone can get homesick either way.

To wrap up an author's note that's probably longer than it should be, I want to say here that I've got a lot more real life stuff to take care of! Christmas is coming up, and on top of having fun celebrating it, I have to do lots of cooking and cleaning and taking care of guests and meeting friends and family and stuff! So, unfortunately, I won't really be able to work on this for a while. Expect the next update maybe... mid January or so?

Until then, I hope all you lovely readers enjoy yourselves, whether or not you're celebrating anything!


	8. Give and Take

Francis stifled a yawn as he fiddled with the lock on his locker. Damn... why was it so hard to open so early in the morning? Just as it came undone, he could hear someone calling out his name. Francis looked over and, after taking a few groggy moments to process who it was, he smiled. "_Bonjour_, Alfred. How are you?"

Well, clearly, Alfred was feeling excited—he couldn't stop bouncing on the balls of his feet once he arrived. "Dude, dude! You gotta see this!" And then he struck a ridiculous thumbs-up pose, complete with a giant toothy grin. Francis could swear that he saw a bit of light shine off of Alfred's teeth.

"...Ah. That's nice." Francis tried to seem at least a little enthusiastic, but as he turned back to his locker to finish pulling out some books, he couldn't help but wonder what was supposed to be special about it all. Certainly, he appreciated Alfred's cheerful smiles, but big grins and a little bit of silliness were the norm for him. But, just as Francis was pulling out his last book for the morning, his brain finally caught up with him, and his attention snapped back to Alfred. "Oh! Your braces are gone!"

Alfred laughed. "Took you long enough! Isn't it great?"

Even though Francis was just starting to enjoy maneuvering around the braces, he really did like this new development. On top of the fact that it made Alfred look better, it also meant that Francis could go all out when they kissed. In fact... why not try that out now?

So, Francis temporarily put away all his books in his locker, and then smiled up at Alfred in a way the other boy didn't learn to be suspicious of yet. "It is very lovely, _cher_. Would you mind showing me again?"

"Sure!" Alfred put on another huge grin, and not another moment later, he had Francis' hand cupping his cheek, and Francis' tongue in his mouth. Then, slowly, Francis moved his tongue along Alfred's upper teeth, down the inside of his cheek, and then slipped it under his tongue, gently rubbing against its side. Alfred let out a small moan from the back of his throat and lost himself in the moment. Just as he was beginning to kiss back, however, he heard someone nearby open a lock, and suddenly he remembered that they were at school and he pulled away. "Dammit Francis..." he reprimanded between heavy breaths.

Francis smirked; Alfred's face was flushed, eyes were hooded, and he was panting. The perfect parting gift before they needed to separate for class. "My deepest apologies. I just could not wait until later to see what it would be like!"

"Yeah, yeah..." Before their conversation could carry on any further, the first bell of the day sounded. Alfred's mood quickly picked up, and he shot Francis a small smile. "Well, guess I'll be seeing you later, then!"

"But of course, _cher_." Francis shot him a wink, and then Alfred found himself bidding goodbye through a renewed blush.

As Francis gathered his books and headed to class, he thought about how Alfred looked now without the braces, how much nicer it was, and he felt warm. Little things like that could go a long way for someone's look. Once again, Francis found himself wondering what Alfred would be like if he just put a little more time into his appearance.

* * *

Teasing Alfred by being affectionate in public was fun, but kissing in private was definitely more engaging. Once Alfred shut the door to his dorm, Francis immediately pushed Alfred's back to the wall and pressed their bodies together. Then he kissed Alfred on the lips, once, a simple peck, then another, open-mouthed, before moving down to his neck. Alfred lazily wrapped his arms around Francis and sighed pleasantly, before tilting his head back to give Francis more neck space to kiss.

First Francis kissed the corner of Alfred's jaw, and then he slowly moved down, trailing along the muscle. By the time he reached the base of Alfred's neck, he could hear how the other's breath started to pick up a little, and he smirked as he returned his attention to the other's lips. Alfred's grip tightened as he let Francis' tongue in and felt it slowly caress the inside of his mouth.

Just as things were starting to heat up, Francis pulled out and nipped at Alfred's ear, giving the other a moment to catch his breath. It was too easy to make Alfred reach his limit at this point, so Francis would instead enjoy teasing things out as much as possible.

Once Alfred's breathing evened out enough, Francis went back to open-mouthed kisses, and he slowly moved a hand down Alfred's back, stopping at the edge of the hoodie. Maybe this time, he could step things up and finally get beneath that bulky clothing. He slipped two fingers up under the hoodie and shirt, very gently touching bare skin in a silent question to go on.

Alfred's body tensed, and he broke the kiss, but he didn't push away Francis immediately. Then, after a beat, he weakly brought Francis closer, tangled one hand in his hair, and gently tilted Francis' face into the crook of his neck, making sure to avoid eye contact. Francis smiled and tenderly pecked a few kisses into Alfred's neck as he slipped his palm up the boy's bare back. He was met with smooth skin and hardened muscle, and then he traced along the curve of Alfred's waist until his hand moved to the front. There were even more strong, defined muscles there, and Francis delighted in the way they twitched under his delicate touch. Just as he was beginning to map out part of Alfred's stomach, he could hear the other boy's breath hitch, and then he called Francis' name.

It was with a tinge of disappointment that Francis withdrew his hand. As usual, Alfred seemed to end things a little too early. Oh, well... there would always be next time. Francis pleasantly smiled up at a flustered Alfred, and then the two of them embraced while the latter evened out his breathing.

After a few moments of this serenity, however, Francis came to a sudden realization. He abruptly loosened the hug and turned up to face Alfred. As casually as he could muster, he asked, "Alfred, _cher_, would you mind pulling up your clothing for me?"

"Uh... you didn't find anything weird down there, did you?" He started to hike up his shirt and hoodie, and Francis felt that the sight that met him should have blinded him.

Without thinking about it, Francis grabbed at the clothes and yanked them up higher, revealing a very, _very _built body. Under his shirt, Alfred had a strong and sturdy frame, with all of his muscles perfectly defined like a statue chiseled from rock. Francis did not notice his mouth fall open in shock. He was definitely not expecting this from Alfred, especially considering all the junk food the other ate.

"Uh... F-Francis?" Alfred's face was flushed again and he suddenly felt very rigid and awkward.

"...Ah. _Oui_. ..._Pardon_." Francis hastily pulled Alfred's clothing back down.

"So, um... what's wrong?"

"...Well. Nothing is wrong, per se... just..." Francis took a moment to think of the best way to explain himself. "...how?" Dammit.

"...How what...?"

"How did you... ah, well, that is to say... you are in excellent shape, Alfred."

"O-oh, well... yeah. Thanks, I guess." Why did Alfred seem so surprised by the statement? "It's probably because of weight training. That's my only elective this year, actually."

Francis supposed that made sense. But now he had another question burning in his mind... "You work so hard to stay in shape. Why, then, do you wear such baggy clothing? It does not do you any justice!"

Alfred frowned. "I just like to be comfortable."

Francis took a few moments to understand what Alfred meant by that. "...And who told you that clothing can't be both beautiful and comfortable?" Alfred's frown deepened, but he didn't respond. Francis tried to think of a way to prove that clothes could feel as good as they look, and so the next thing he said could hardly be considered surprising: "I know! Why don't we go shopping? I'll find some clothing for you that is perfect!"

"...What?"

"Ah, why didn't I think of this sooner? You will truly shine once we are through!" Francis smiled brightly as he thought of clothing he had seen at the mall recently which would perfectly suit Alfred.

"But what about the secret dungeon? I thought we were gonna do that today!"

"Oh, Alfred, _mon petit lapin_... the secret dungeon will still be there next time. Let's go to the mall today instead!"

"But, the mall will still be around next time, too..."

"But I insist! This simply cannot wait!"

Alfred's eyebrows knitted together and he whimpered. Francis wasn't about to drop this idea so easily. "I... I just don't want to go."

"Why is that?"

The rumors Alfred had heard about Francis' bet resurfaced in his mind, and he looked away, trying to banish those thoughts. "I don't really like going clothes shopping."

It was quite clear to Francis that Alfred was very uncomfortable about the idea. Usually, Francis' response would be to drop it, but... "Is there any way I could convince you otherwise?" ...for Alfred's sake... "I would love nothing more than to see you looking your best every day. Because it is so exquisite, the feeling of being beautiful."

Alfred could feel the sincerity that was radiating from Francis and his chest suddenly felt warmer. So, he was only being pushed into this because Francis wanted him to feel better about himself? Not that he didn't already feel that his self-esteem was just fine... but, if this was really that important to the other, then Alfred supposed he should try it out. At least for Francis' sake. "Well, when you put it that way... then I guess I can give it a shot."

An incredibly bright smile lit up on Francis' face, and he roughly threw his arms around Alfred. "_Magnifique_! I am so glad! Alfred, I promise you, this trip will be nothing but good!"

Alfred still didn't feel entirely comfortable with this whole idea, but still, he forced a smile and nodded.

* * *

Alfred found that the mall they visited was far classier than any mall he'd ever been in. As Francis led him along, he caught sight of some of the price tags, which would have made him immediately turn around and leave if it weren't for the fact that his arm was being held.

It wasn't long before they arrived at their first destination, and Alfred found himself seated at a place that sold cosmetics. Francis insisted that his look wouldn't be complete if he didn't take care of his hair and skin, and so that was why Alfred was now getting interrogated by the attendant that was there.

Said attendant twirled a lock of his long black hair as he looked at Alfred over his glasses. "So...? Alfred, was it? Would you say your skin is sensitive?"

How the hell was he supposed to know that? "Um..."

The attendant furrowed his brows, and then Francis cut in. "When you spend time under the sun, do you tan or burn up?"

Alfred tried to think of the last time he went to the beach. Damn. That long ago? "Uh... tan, I guess."

Francis smirked. What would Alfred look like with a tan? Before he could think about it too hard, the attendant spoke up. "Would you say your skin is oily, or dry?"

Once again, Alfred drew up a blank. After he stared for a few moments, at a complete loss, Francis sighed and answered, "Definitely oily."

Ouch. Alfred squirmed uncomfortably and looked away from the others, face burning up. Was it just him, or did Francis actually sound disgusted just now? Alfred was then jolted from his thoughts as he felt a hand on his chin, and then his face was gently forced back to the front, bringing him face to face with the attendant.

"Hm..." The attendant angled Alfred's head this way and that, scrutinizing it. Damn, Alfred was hating this guy more than he thought possible, for someone he only knew a few minutes. "Just look at these pores..." The attendant seemed to think for a moment more before going behind the counter and withdrawing several bottles, each a different color. "Listen up, Alfred. You're going to need all three of these." He went on to explain how Alfred would need to use the green one when he woke up and went to bed and whenever he got sweaty, and how he'd need the red one and the blue one once every night before bed, and he needed to make sure to let the red one sit for at least five minutes before washing it off...

"Oh, and another thing," Francis added once the attendant finished, "Junk food will only make your skin worse. You should try to avoid it." Alfred gaped, his face a picture of pure horror. Francis paid it no mind and continued: "And if you need to use the cleanser whenever you get sweaty, then you should keep an extra bottle in your gym locker." With that, Francis turned back to the attendant, added an extra cleanser to the bill, and then paid.

Afterwards, the pair visited a different store in order to pick up new hair product. Even though the lady there was much nicer, Alfred continued to feel more and more degraded. After all, he still couldn't answer simple questions about himself (but Francis somehow could), and he still didn't like having a stranger stare at him. Plus, having Francis pay for everything just made him feel worse, even though he knew he couldn't afford it even if he wanted. On top of all that, Alfred was definitely starting to see Francis' patience wear out. So, it was with those things in mind that Alfred decided to pull Francis aside to a quiet corner of the mall, away from all the others, while they were on their way to the clothing.

"Look, Francis, I was wondering... if, maybe, we could go home now?" At that, Francis looked cross, and Alfred felt himself tense up.

"But we already came all the way out here, and we haven't even started to look at clothes yet!"

"I know, but... well, we already got the face and hair stuff. Isn't that enough for one day?" The look on Francis' face answered that with a clear "no", and Alfred slumped, at a complete loss. Now what was he going to do?

Francis sighed and held Alfred's hand, the hard frown on his face becoming gentler. He couldn't stay mad at the other when he looked so hopeless. Perhaps, he thought, he was being too hard on Alfred. Even before today, it was obvious that Alfred didn't have much experience doing this sort of thing. Francis supposed it was reasonable for the other boy to be uncomfortable doing this, especially at the pace they were going. "Is there any way I can persuade you to keep going?"

Alfred appeared extremely sheepish. "I don't really think there is..."

Well, then. Francis supposed he would have to throw in a little more incentive. "Now that I think about it, on the fifth floor of this building, there is the most wonderful little ice cream shop. Maybe, if we shop around at least for a little bit—"

"All right, I guess I can keep going for a little longer!" Francis smirked; it was the fastest he'd ever seen someone's frown turn into a smile. "But! Only if we still stop for ice cream when we're done, even if we have to quit early!"

Francis' smile faltered. "All right. Fair enough."

"...Also, I'm not quitting junk food."

"Well. That's." Francis pouted. "...Fine. As long as you can keep your face clear."

Now Alfred's smile had become an annoying grin. "All right! Then, let's get going already!" Alfred started leading Francis out of the corner they were in, and soon they were looking for new clothes.

* * *

"Stand still for me just a moment, _cher_," Francis said, running his palms along Alfred's broad chest. Now it was just the two of them shopping. "I am simply, ah... smoothing out the folds here." Yes, that's all he was doing. And for as long as they would be doing this without any of the attendants' help, Francis would gladly... smooth out any folds... anywhere for Alfred.

After a few moments of standing rigidly, Alfred couldn't help his awkward little cough. It was definitely taking too long to just be what Francis said it was. The Frenchman snapped out of it, and raised his hands in mock surrender, a guilty smile on his face. After taking a moment to enjoy the sight of an overwhelmingly flustered Alfred, Francis stepped back to get a full view of the new outfit the other was trying on. "How is it?" he asked.

Alfred whirled around to face the mirror. Currently, he was wearing a plain white shirt, a brown jacket, and jeans. Just like the other outfits he tried on so far, this one was was comfortable, the fabrics used were softer and thinner than what he usually wore. And even though the clothes were simple in design, they were still quite snug in fit, and much more flattering to his figure. All in all, the outfit he had on looked fantastic on him.

Alfred fidgeted as he looked himself over again. Even though the clothes looked and felt great on him, just as Francis had promised in the beginning... he couldn't help but feel wrong somehow. Wearing something like this, it just wasn't something he would normally do. Sure, this stuff felt comfortable... but the stuff he usually wore was... _comfortable._ Not to mention, he couldn't imagine walking around school like this. What about all the attention he might get? Even though the clothes covered his body properly, they were still more revealing somehow. In a way, they made him feel too exposed.

"Well?" Francis prodded, successfully catching Alfred's attention. Francis tried to reign in his annoyance as best he could. He knew Alfred was new and uncomfortable with all this, so he would try to be as patient as possible for the other's sake.

Alfred squeezed out a small smile. "It feels fine. I like the jacket. Do you think it looks all right?" Alfred knew, if he complained enough, then they would quit for the day and share that ice cream he was so looking forward to. It was an awfully tempting option, but Alfred refused to do it. He promised Francis he would give it a fair shake, and that's exactly what he'd do, even if it was uncomfortable.

"I think it looks wonderful on you, _cher_. The pieces in this one can easily be matched to other outfits as well."

"All right, then. We can... keep all of this, I guess." He stepped back into the fitting room and started to change to the next set of clothing. Even though he didn't quite understand Francis' perspective on this whole ordeal, he knew that the Frenchman was only doing this with his best interests at heart. Francis was putting a lot of time, energy, and money into this trip. So, in the end, Alfred figured he would put in his best effort, if only because he was doing it for Francis' sake.

* * *

**Author's Note: **Woohoo! Finally! Sorry about the wait, everyone. I remember, the last chapter was delayed mostly due to Bad Stuff happening in life. Well, shortly after the holidays, I got to have fun with Bad Stuff, the Sequel: It Gets Worse. Well, things are a lot better now, and hopefully they stay that way for a long time. Along the way of all this stuff happening, I got some kind of weird illness that I don't know what it is yet. It doesn't make my life miserable or leave me unable to get work done... but I sure do get tired and dizzy pretty easily. So when I finally do get down to writing time, I'm not always feeling up for it. And dealing with stressful things in life sure doesn't seem to help much...

Anyway. The point of this is, I'm not about to make a promise on when the next chapter will come, because we all know how punctual I was on this one! It should be fairly timely, though. Provided that the rest of my life doesn't pull any funny business. Again, I just want to apologize for the wait. Good reason or not, I still feel pretty bad about it!

Also, I'd like to thank everyone who came back, even after so long! I hope this chapter was worth the wait in the end! Thanks, thanks, and thanks again for sticking with this story for all this time!


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